


Markiplier's 12 Days of Christmas

by Dorktapus42



Series: Come Together-verse [13]
Category: Youtube (RPF)
Genre: Other, lots of fun, really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-10-31 20:55:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17856815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorktapus42/pseuds/Dorktapus42
Summary: Because of course I'm posting this in February.A bunch of snippets as one long chapter. Have fun.





	Markiplier's 12 Days of Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> For Funzies:  
> What Host feels like on a relatively daily basis. It's Thomas Sanders. Have fun. 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DpL55Li9L3s 
> 
>  
> 
> Also, please enjoy this massive chapter that took me like a month to write. Man, these are coming out rapid-fire. Not sure whether you should get used to it. Merry Un-Christmas.

**1: A Chica in Angel Wings DONE**

Wilford was looking through some old props with Bim when:

“Are these angel wings?”

He looked over. So they were. A bit mangled, but surprisingly intact. 

“You want to do something with them?”

Bim grinned. 

 

\------

 

“W̶h̵a̴t̵ ̴t̷h̵e̵ ̴f̷u̷c̴k̵?̷”

The bright pink dog barked, the angel wings on his back shaking as he thumped his tail on the ground. He liked being a dog. Many smells. Much petting. Wow. Squirrel! 

|Wilford, did you do something really stupid just for the fun of it?|

He shook his fur out, tongue lolling out. Maybe Darky would pet him. OOh being pet was niceee…

“How long has he been like that?”

Marvin looked up from where he was reading his magic book with a frown. “I didn’t do that. BIM!”

Bim looked in from where he was bedazzling the living room in enough glitter to satisfy the Jims. 

“Yo?”

“Did you turn Wilford into a dog?” 

“Maybe?”

“How long ago?”

“Last night?”

Marvin gave a sigh. “Bim, you don’t know how to do magic. For that long and for that reason, I’m honestly surprised something weirder didn’t happen.”

Bim whined and went over to pat his head. PET! Pet pat pot pet pat pet pot!

“I read the spell! It didn’t say anything…”

“The warnings are after the spells Bim.”

“Well that’s stupid!”

Marvin gave a long-suffering sigh, then snapped his fingers. Wilford returned to normal, still wearing the angel wings. 

“Whazzup?”

Then he fell over. Fortunately onto a pillow. And straight into sleep.

Marvin made sure he was alright before reaming into Bim. 

At one point Dark came by to see what was happening but just sighed and decided it wasn’t worth getting into. 

  
  


**2: Two Turkey Tylers DONE**

  
  


-HONK-

Bim frowned and shifted in his seat. 

-HONK-

Wilford grinned. “Something wrong?”

“Did you prank me with a rubber chicken?”

“Me? No- it must have been somebody else.” His carefree whistles gave him away. 

He stood and started to march forwards-

-HONK-

He lifted the carpet between the couches to find another chicken just where his foot had been. He heard laughter on the other side of the room, where the Jims were setting up the cameras. 

“JIM!”

They both looked up and ran, scooping armfuls of chickens up as they went.

Bim stopped just shy of the door. “Do you think they’ll end up pranking Dark with those?”

“Now THAT I would pay to see.”

 

\--------

 

-HONK!-

Dark blinked a few times before lifting his foot. Nothing. He lifted the carpet. There was a single rubber chicken. How had that gotten there?

He heard a few faint giggles and realized he was probably being pranked. Well. 

|I wonder what made that noise.|

He carefully put it back under the welcome mat and walked forwards. Judging by the Jim’s position…

-HONK!-

Aha. There was another. 

|Again? We must have a rubber chicken infestation.|

He walked on with another HONK, a small smile playing on his face. This was why he liked the Jims. They could always lift the spirits of everyone in the Manor. 

-HONK!-

The Jims were laughing now, and he couldn’t help but grin. 

|I wonder who could have done this.|

He could indulge in the tomfoolery for a while. It was entertaining, if crude humor. 

He stepped on a pillow lying on the floor-

-HONK!-

More laughter followed, this time from multiple points. Either there were more Jims than he thought or… he caught a small flash of pink. Ah. Wilford and… was that Bim? They had to be seeing his reaction. His guess was that they couldn’t see his face…

“W̷h̵y̴’̴r̷e̶ ̸y̶o̸u̸ ̴g̷r̸i̸n̶n̸i̴n̶g̸ ̵l̵i̶k̵e̷ ̶a̶ ̸l̵u̷n̷a̷t̵i̷c̴?̸”

Oh he was no fun. He raised one foot as if to step forwards-

And hopped. 

-HONK!-

Anti covered his mouth as if to stifle a laugh. “O̴h̸ ̴m̸y̶ ̶g̴o̵d̷.̷”

|I simply cannot figure out where they’re coming from. Do we have a rubber chicken infestation?|

He stepped off the pillow and purposefully stepped on the blanket a foot or two away. 

-HONK!-

More laughter. 

“I̸ ̴t̴h̸i̸n̵k̴ ̸w̴e̴ ̷d̶o̶.̵ ̸L̵e̴t̵ ̵m̶e̷ ̶c̶h̵e̶c̵k̶.̶”

He glitched onto the pillow Dark had vacated. 

-HONK!-

The laughter was louder now. Anti grinned. “Y̸e̸a̸h̸,̶ ̴w̸e̵ ̶d̶o̴.”

|I thought so. I wonder how they got in.|

He heard a loud thump as the Jims fell to the floor from the cabinet they were hiding in and immediately schooled his features as he turned around, purposefully letting out a HONK.

|I take it you two put these here?|

They were too busy giggling to answer. He smirked despite himself. 

|Make them less noticeable next time and make them more spread out. Differ the locations. Otherwise, not bad.|

He disappeared to his office before they could react. Only there, alone, could he laugh. 

  
  


**3: Three Fresh Eggs DONE**

  
  


“It says three eggs.”

“What are you two doing?”

“Making Dark a cake.”

“Neither of you can cook. Or bake, for that matter.”

“We got instructions from Blue! It can’t be that hard. Pass me the- whoops!”

There was a splat as the egg hit the ground. Chase let out a sigh as Marvin sheepishly grabbed some paper towels. 

“Do you guys want some help?”

Robbie nodded shyly, and gestured with the box mix. How could you mess up a box mix? 

He looked at it. 

“That says one egg.”

“We’re making three layers so we can stack them.”

He sighed again. “Why don’t you make them in separate bowls? You won’t have to do the math then.”

Silence.  

“Because we didn’t think of it?”

He grabbed the spoon from Marvin and started to mix. 

It couldn’t be that hard, right? 

 

\-----

 

Wilford dropped his plate and looked around in shock. “What happened here?”

Chase gave a sigh, cake batter dripping off of his hat and onto the already large puddle on the floor. “I tried to help them make a cake.” 

Wilford picked up the closest box and read the directions in disbelief.

“It’s a box mix how can it be that-”

“Marvin tried to have the spoon stir by itself.”

“You kept putting in too much flour!”

“We don’t need flour this is a box mix!”

“I may have went overboard on the chocolate chips.” Robbie admitted shyly, like that was the most grievous mistake of the bunch.

“You think?!”

Wilford waved a hand and the mess disappeared. Well, all except for the stuff on the counters. 

“Okay. I’ll make the cake. You clean up the counters.”

“Wilford! Why do we have to clean up!”

“Because you made the mess in the first place. You know my cakes tend to turn out a bit sweet, but Dark only likes bitter chocolate so I’ll make it by scratch.”

A bit sweet was an understatement. 

He conjured up a bowl and all of the ingredients and placed them on a clean spot on the counters. He was the only one of them who could actually make a decent cake except for maybe the Googles. He knew exactly what kind Dark liked too. 

He grabbed some maraschino cherries out of midair and set them on the counter. 

“It’s not that hard. Just look.” He preheated the oven to 350 and started to mix. 2 cups of sugar… 1 ¾ flour… he resisted the urge to put in more sugar. No, Dark liked it as bitter as Damien used to. 

Soon enough he had a bowl of chocolate deliciousness. He poured in the cherries and stirred. Not many people knew this, but Dark  _ loved _ cherries. No ifs, buts, or whatevers about it. He found himself humming as he slid it into the oven. 

“Now wait for half an hour and it should be done.” He grabbed a stool from the breakfast bar and a magazine from the ether and started to read, ignoring the shocked faces. 

“You didn’t even spill any!”

“And you used exactly two cups of sugar!”

“You were only busy for ten minutes!”

He looked up. “That’s how you make a cake.”

Robbie grabbed a paper towel and started to clean. With a groan the other two joined in. Wilford smirked and went back to his magazine. He just had to wait. 

 

\--------

 

-DING!-

The three of them looked at the oven in fear of what was inside. 

It was like Schrodinger’s cat in there. There could be a blackened mess of an oven, runny and hardened cake lining the walls and base, or-

WIlford neatly took out the first cake with a flourish, the top perfectly baked. Marvin goggled. 

“HOW?!”

“You’ve gotta do the cooking by the book.~” Wilford singsonged, setting the pans down on the rack to cool. 

A chorus of sighs sounded from the immediate area. Wilford grinned, and went to go make the frosting while the cake cooled. 

 

\--------

 

“So. You want to bring it to him or have me do it?”

There were the frozen faces of people who realized that Dark might be having a bad day and won’t want their company but Wilford might actually survive unscathed. 

“You.” Robbie summarized in that blunt way of his.

“Gotcha. If there’s any left I’ll leave in front of your doors.”

He grabbed the plate and disappeared.

 

\---------

 

_ ‘Okay, okay. Another solution then. What if we try-’ _

There was a soft knock on the office door. Dark opened his eyes and looked up from where his head was resting on his hands. |Yes?|

“Can I come in?”

One of the Ipliers. And one with the politeness to knock so… 

|Sure. What do you need?|

Wilford swept into the room. “For you to take a break and eat this cake. Marvin, Chase, and Robbie wanted you to have one, so here you go.”

|How much of a mess did they make this time?| He sighed out, thinking. He’d have to make sure that was all cleaned up before he went to bed-

“A lot, but it’s all clean. I made this one, so you know it’s edible.”

|Not too sweet?| Last time Wilford had conjured up a cake… let’s just not talk about it. 

“Handmade just for you. Chocolate cherry cake. Fork?”

|Please.| Wilford knew just how much he loved cherries… 

A fork was put into his hand and he carefully put a piece into his mouth-

|Holy shit. I think heaven just exploded in my mouth.| Well there went all decorum, but there was cake to eat. 

Wilford snagged a bit of frosting with his finger and hummed in agreement. “One of my better ones, I must admit. You should have seen what they were trying to make. A box mix. With vanilla cake. And that cheap icing that makes even me get a toothache.” That was quite an achievement. Dark shuddered between bites. 

|I think you foiled a murder plot.|

A grin like a razor blade. “I wouldn’t want my pal Darky here to die now would I?”

_ ‘Darky? Really?’ _

He let it go. It wasn’t going to go away. But if anyone other than Wil or Anti used it-

“You’ll kill them?”

He was far too used to Wilford to react. |Most likely. Now, feel free to bring-| He pried apart three miniscule slices out from the cake with his fork. |-these to the three of them whenever you like. Don’t be in a rush though. How are you doing?|

Wilford looked surprised. Had it really been that long since they had a chat?

“Not too bad. And yourself?”

He raised a brow. |Wilford…|

“I’m okay. I promise. Now, buddy, pal, amigo, buckaroo-” He must be fine if he was calling him nicknames. “-how would you like to go dancing?”

He blinked. |Pardon?|

  
  
  


**4: Four Catcalling Birds DONE**

 

The Googles have fun with a leftover rubber chicken. It does not go well.

 

-AAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!-

“WHAT THE FUCK!?”

Blue looked up from the security feed for Chicken #1. “Chase has found the chicken.”

Bing scoffed. “No shit. I wonder who will find the other-”

Red’s screen chimed.

-NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP!-

“The fuck?”

“The Host tried to warn Marvin.”

Another screen was opened by Oliver to view Chicken #4. 

Green jumped as there was a loud -JOHN CENA!- from the welcome mat. These were being found quickly. Too quickly. The Jims must have hid them in too populated of an area.

Dead silence. 

Then: 

-DO DO DO DO!-

“What the- was that the windows startup sound?”

They froze. That one was supposed to be found out last-

“GOOGLE!”

“ _Ah shit._ ”

  
  


**5: Five Golden Subs DONE**

 

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Bim looked over at Blue. “Woah, I didn’t know… you… swore…”

Blue was covered in golden paint, fuming. A large puddle was on the ground, and the bucket that had just fallen from the top of the door was sitting on the wooden floor next to him. The shocked face of Red was staring at him behind him, golden flecks of paint on his shirt and hair. 

“Blue?”

“What’s going on-” Bing walked in through the other door before anyone could tell him to stop. There was a creak of a bucket and he stiffened as he was covered in golden paint. 

He let out a long-suffering sigh. 

Dark walked in through the kitchen on his phone and stopped when he saw the two of them. 

|Oh my.| With a wave of his hand the puddles of the floor disappeared. 

“What about us, bro?”

|I can’t affect people, that’s Wilford’s jurisdiction. Sorry.| He didn’t look sorry. 

Bing cursed. Boy, he really needed to remember to disable the censoring. One of these days.

There were a series of wet  _ splats _ as Oliver walked in, also covered in gold paint. Golden footprints disappeared with a wave of a hand.

“There was one by the Lab.”

The two others covered in paint groaned. 

“Are they all over the place?!”

“I think they’re on all the doors.”

More groans. Then a startled scream further away in the manor.

Dark disappeared faster than you could blink.

He reappeared with Host, also covered in gold paint. 

“The Host did not see this coming. He… he though the door was safe.”

“Library?”

A nod. 

“Don’t blame yourself Host. They’re always on the other side of the door- basically impossible to see.” Host’s shoulders relaxed slightly. 

“The Host feels slightly better.”

There was a startled screech, not unlike what happened to Host. Just glitchy. And way angrier.

“Aaand they got Anti.”

 

“ **W̭̯̟̭̰͍̣̫̭͕̔̒͗̏͋̅́̕̚͘H̢̢͎͉̹̜͚̫͇̺̒͆̍̊̈́̄̒͝Ǫ͓͎͕̣̫͙͔̗͙͒͋̍̉̓̃̆̔̂̚ ̢̡̙͎͔̳̱͉̪͌̂͗̍͆̉̃̋̕̕͜T̡͙̮̗͎̭̞͓͎̜̒̈̐̓̍̽̕͝Ḩ̢̛̞̩̰̟͚̟̜͈̊̍͒̂̈͆̂͠Ē͓̳̭͚̬͚̰̮̦̤͗͂͆̃̂̇͒̚͝ ̢̨̜͇̟̬͙̬̮͍̔̈́̒̋͊͂̏̇͠F̦͉͍͔̝̮͍̱̤̗̒̈́͛͌̈́̈͘͝͠͝U͍̮̬̲̫̯̭̤̩̞͒̿̄͊͑̽̀̕͝C̨̨̧̝̘̝̻̯̹̮̏̈́̆̓͛̓̿̈͐͝K̡̢͖̤̦̫͉͙̱̝̎͐̔̿͗͆̽͑̌̽?̡̧͖̭̺͍͇̗͙͗́̅̈̓̽͛̇͒̚ͅ!̡̨̛̛͇̬͓̰̗̮̲͊͂͊̀̐̌͒̄ͅ** ”

 

Ah shit. 

  
  


**6: GOOSE DONE**

 

-HONK-

Chase looked up in annoyance. “Are you two still playing with the chickens?”

“What? No!”

“We would never do that, would we Jim?”

“Never Jim!”

Left Jim squawked as Wilford poked him in the back with a plastic flamingo.

“Go get your own birds.”

Right Jim gathered up the rubber chickens that had dropped to the floor and ran, Left Jim following in his wake moments later. 

“Why do you have a flamingo?”

“I was thinking of taking up crochet.”

“You mean croquet? Like from Alice and Wonderland?”

“Sure. That works too. Has anyone seen any balls? I conjured up some earlier but they disappeared.”

Chase looked up. “Three, two, one-”

_ “I̵ ̴L̵O̶V̸E̸ ̶B̸A̸L̸L̶S̶!̵” _

He nodded to himself. “There it is. Anyway, no, I haven’t seen them. Might want to ask Host.”

“Okay thanks.”

He left. Chase looked towards the vents. “You know, without any context that sounds really weird.”

“F̵u̷c̶k̴ ̷y̸o̷u̵ ̸a̷n̵d̷ ̷y̶o̷u̶r̶ ̶l̷o̴g̶i̵c̴.̴”

“Logan would be very disappointed in you.”

“S̷h̴u̵t̴ ̷u̶p̸.̵”

“Oh go play some Happy Wheels.”

At least the Jims hadn’t had the Googles make more birds with weird sounds. 

He put his feet up on one of the couch pillows-

-SAH DUDE!-

He fell off the couch in shock. Those fucking chickens-

“BING!”

  
  
  
  


**7: Seven Scars For Life DONE**

 

Dark blinked as Wilford physically dragged him into what appeared to be a disco club. Well, it would be a disco club except for the fact that it was where his room should be. So there was really only one logical conclusion. 

|This was not what I had envisioned when you said dancing, Wilford.|

“Well what other good kinds are there? C’mon- bring the beat in!”

The sound was cranked up- and Hot Stuff by Donna Summer came on, loud and beating. He could feel the base under his feet. 

Well then. There was really nothing else to do but join the crowd and dance.

 

_ Lookin’ for some hot stuff baby this evenin’~ _

_ Lookin’ for some hot stuff baby tonight~ _

 

So he danced. Awkwardly and amazingly in only that way self-conscious people can dance when they just don’t give a fuck but are obligationally supposed to dance as to not piss off their friend and it actually turns out pretty well.

He was just getting into I Will Survive by Gloria Gaynor when the door burst open and Anti just stared at the crowd in disbelief before their eyes met and Dark froze halfway through whatever crazy dance move he was doing. 

The turn of the earth… the meaning of life… the great span of the universe before it’s corresponding death...all of those were insignificant compared to that split second of eye contact. Anti’s face contorted in horror. 

Then the door slammed shut and the moment was over. 

Wilford made a disappointed noise from where he was taking a break to get a martini. “Well that’s a shame! He still owes me a dance, that rapscallion!”

He cleared his throat and moved towards Wilford. |I’m going to go. This was… enjoyable however.|

“Alright, alright.” He clapped his hands and the room returned to its normal bedroom. “See you around Darky.”

He disappeared in turn, reappearing in his office. Loud voices could be heard down the hall. 

“And then he was just dancing?!”

“Y̷e̸s̵!̷ ̶I̶t̷ ̵w̷a̷s̷ ̸t̶h̴e̴ ̵w̶e̴i̵r̸d̴e̷s̸t̴ ̶f̴u̴c̸k̴i̷n̷g̵ ̶t̶h̵i̴n̷g̸ ̷I̶’̴v̶e̵ ̸e̶v̶e̵r̶ ̵s̶e̸e̴n̶!̸ ̶T̴h̸e̶r̴e̶ ̶w̶a̸s̴ ̵W̶i̷l̷f̴o̸r̶d̴ ̵o̴n̵ ̷t̴h̸e̸ ̴s̸t̴a̵g̶e̶,̸ ̸a̶ ̶m̴a̸s̷s̸i̵v̴e̵ ̴c̴r̵o̷w̶d̴ ̴o̸f̷ ̴p̷e̶o̷p̶l̸e̷,̴ ̴a̴n̷d̷ ̶t̴h̴e̵n̸ ̷D̷a̵r̴k̵ ̸d̷a̴n̸c̸i̴n̶g̵ ̵t̵o̵ ̸I̶ ̸W̶i̶l̴l̷ ̸S̷u̸r̸v̸i̷v̴e̷.̶ ̵I̸ ̸t̵h̵i̴n̵k̸ ̴I̷’̷v̶e̸ ̴b̷e̵e̶n̴ ̷s̵c̸a̶r̸r̸e̵d̶ ̸f̴o̶r̵ ̷l̵i̸f̷e̸.̸”̵ There was entirely too much glee in his voice when he said that. 

Dark let out a sigh. Of course he was telling that story. 

_ ‘Your reputation’s going to be in ruins you know.’ _

_ ‘It’s not that bad Damien, everybody has a hobby.’ _

|It wasn’t exactly my choice, you two.|

_ ‘Exactly! Explain that and everything will be fine.’ _

|You two shouldn’t be worried about this. It’s just dancing.|

_ ‘I know!’ _

_ ‘But still!’ _

He rolled his eyes and walked out of his office to see Anti in Storyteller Mode™ on the couch. 

“A̷n̶d̷ ̷t̴h̶e̵n̶ ̴w̵e̴ ̵j̶u̴s̸t̷ ̴s̸t̷a̷r̶e̸d̴ ̵a̷t̷ ̶e̵a̶c̷h̸ ̵o̴t̴h̸e̴r̵-̵ ̴o̵h̸,̷ ̸h̸e̵y̵ ̶D̸a̶r̵k̵.̵ ̷S̵p̵e̷a̷k̵ ̴o̸f̸ ̷t̵h̵e̵ ̵D̵e̶v̷i̶l̸.̵”

|Having fun?|

“Not as much as you must have had dancing.” Bing smirked, ignoring the several surprised looks at his apparent lack of sanity. Dark ignored him and turned back towards his office.

|Wilford asked me to tell you that you still owe him a dance, Anti.|

Dark smirked and left them to their laughter.

  
  
  


**8: Eight Milky Beauties DONE**

 

“Anti? I brought you some milk to go with the cookies that… I… made…”

Anti looked up from his bed where he was playing a game on his phone. “O̴h̷?̵ ̶T̸h̴a̷n̶k̴s̷-̷ ̴j̴u̶s̸t̸ ̴l̴e̴a̸v̵e̴ ̴i̴t̴ ̶o̴n̶ ̴t̵h̷e̶ ̶d̵e̴s̶k̶.̴”

Chase looked at the desk, covered in yarn and papers and books and just a general two inches of clutter on every available surface. That wasn’t even counting the floor, which was somehow worse except for a miniscule path to the bed. 

“Anti?”

“Y̴e̶a̵h̶?̴ ̴”

“Clean your fucking room.”

Anti blinked at him, recognizing his Dad Voice™. “I̴t̵’̷s̴ ̷n̷o̵t̶ ̴t̴h̴a̴t̶ ̵b̵a̸d̸.̶”

“If it’s not that bad I don’t know how we’re seeing the same room then. Just- tidy up? A little? Please?”

Anti sighed. “I̵ ̶d̷o̴n̸’̶t̶ ̸w̷a̶n̴t̵ ̷t̴o̶ ̸t̵h̴o̸u̸g̷h̷h̴h̷…̶”

“I’ll bring you cookies in half an hour if you’re still working.”

He leapt up and grabbed the glass and plate from Chase’s hand. “D̴e̵a̷l̷.̷”

 

\--------

 

“Woah.”

Anti was hanging some pennants that he’d never seen before on the wall, standing on a stool he’d also never seen before. 

“I̴ ̴h̶a̵d̷ ̵n̵o̶ ̷i̸d̶e̸a̶ ̵I̷ ̶h̴a̵d̷ ̷s̸o̵m̴e̵ ̸o̸f̸ ̴t̵h̶i̵s̵ ̸s̸t̴u̶f̸f̷.̶ ̶I̵ ̵h̸a̸v̶e̶ ̶p̶e̷r̵s̵o̶n̷a̴l̵i̷z̸e̷d̵ ̷p̶e̴n̸n̷a̶n̴t̵s̴!̴”

They were, indeed, personalized. He tried to read them. BOSSOTRONIO, SPEED IS KEY, an INTERNATIONAL TURTLE CONVENTION one that he was almost positive Robbie had given him as a joke last Christmas, I <3 COFFEE, and a few more he couldn’t catch. Not to mention the posters on the walls. So many… tours, bands, fan art, ect. 

He set the plate of cookies on the nearest- holy crap how had he cleaned all of this stuff in 30 minutes- table. 

“I have to say, I’m impressed.”

Anti grinned at him as he glitched up to the ceiling- had he had Dark install rafters?- to hang some christmas lights. “I̸ ̶n̵o̷t̸i̶c̶e̸d̴.̶ ̷W̴a̸n̵n̸a̴ ̶p̶l̸a̴y̸ ̵s̶o̶m̷e̶ ̸M̶a̸r̴i̴o̶k̷a̵r̴t̶?̴”

He blinked a few times and sat down on one end of the massive beanbag by Anti’s TV. “Sure.”

“S̴h̵y̶ ̴g̸u̷y̷ ̸a̶g̷a̴i̶n̴?̶”

Chase shook himself out of it and grinned. “Heck yeah.”

“Y̷o̶s̶h̷i̶’̶s̶ ̶g̷o̸n̸n̵a̸ ̷b̴e̴a̴t̵ ̷y̸o̴u̸r̴ ̸a̷s̶s̴.̸” Anti sat next to him, the beanbag managing to fit both of them.

“Eat my dust.”

“Y̸o̷u̴’̸r̷e̸ ̶o̸n̵ ̶B̸r̵o̷d̷y̵.̵”

  
  
  


**9: Nine Yanderes Dancing DONE**

 

“Hey Yan? Can we steal a few of your uniforms?”

“Yeah? What do you need them for?”

“We’re doing a thing. Ask the Googles if you want to see it.”

“Alright? Don’t get them too dirty. If you do though, incinerator’s in the back. I have more places to get them.”

“Thanks!”

 

\--------

 

Chase slid in the earbud and gave a thumbs up towards the nearest camera. Next to him, Wilford did the same. 

Outfits were ready to go. He put on a coat he’d borrowed from Schneep and waited for orders. 

[Okay, everyone looks ready. Head out. Red’s ready to film at Shoppers.]

They trooped out of the house and towards the grocery store. 

 

They were in position. Chase at the fruit. Wilford at the candy. Anti in the baking aisle. Roman was showing off his sword to an bemused Mare and Phantom. King was at the nuts section trying to calm down his squirrels. Bing was fooling with his skateboard in the middle of a crowd of Sanders. Oliver was by the checkout. Red was by the magazines on standby to film at a moment’s notice. 

[On three go into the center in a triangular shape. One, two, THREE!]

Red started to film as everyone scrambled over, casting of their coats and taking off sweatshirts to reveal their yandere-style uniforms. Pop music played over the speakers as Blue relayed instructions into their ears. 

They were just about to gather when someone slid into one corner, missing his usual jacket. 

“Host?”

“The Host thought this would be entertaining to partake in. He stole an earpiece. Apologies to Blue and Green.”

[It’s fine. We needed one more anyway. On the next song lyric, start dancing. What we talked about earlier yesterday. Host, do the gangnam style.]

The beat dropped. The music swelled-

And they were dancing. The edges doing gangnam style, the centre doing a mix of clapping and dabbing. 

[SWAP! Gangnam to dabbing! Dabbing to clapping! Clapping to gangnam! Three- two- one-!]

And they did. There were stunned laughs in the slowly amassing crowd. 

[Spread out three feet and do the robot!]

The store grew loud with cheers. 

Eventually the song ended. They shrugged on their jackets and walked away. 

  
  


Host knocked on Yan’s door. It opened. 

“Yeah? Oh! Thanks! Did the whole thing work?”

“The Host recommends that Yandere watch the recording. It is playing in the commons on loop.”

“Oh, thanks! See you around Host!”

“Host wishes them success on their date on thursday.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving Yan’s blushing face in the doorway. 

  
  


**10: Ten Lords O’ Leaping DONE**

 

“Hey Mark! We haven’t played Prop Hunt in forever!”

Oliver grinned while Bing laughed silently in the corner. Blue looked up with a faint air of amusement. Red and Green were looking at Mark’s prop hunt videos in order to authentically replicate the experience. Bing had suggested this, and they were going to have fun with it.

“Yeah, it’s been a while. You want to get started? I think Bob will be on in a few-”

“Hey guys!” A new voice appeared.

“Hey Bob.” 

“Hey, ‘re you guys doing prop hunt without me?”

“JACK!” Wade cheered.

“I didn’t know you had the time to do this today?” Oliver stated in confusion, his hands expertly working the keyboard. He might actually notice that they weren’t Mark.

“Well I found some! Let’s blow shit up!”

There were general whoops of agreement. Bob selected a map. 

They were props with Jack. Oh, this was going to be fun. 

Blue pointed at a soda can. Oliver switched, and hid under a table. 

There were a few moments of silence. 

“Oh, you’re never gonna get me.”

“Where are you Jack?”

Oliver stayed quiet. 

“I think Mark’s trying to be quiet so he doesn’t give away his location.”

Bing scoffed. “Excuse you, I can do that perfectly well on my own!”

Blue and Red rolled their eyes. Oliver motioned for him to shut up. 

“Found you!”

Oliver made to move- 

And Bob killed him with a grenade. 

Silence. 

“Dammit Bob.”

Jack was laughing so hard he wheezed. “Oh my god-”

“Found you too!”

“Shit!”

Now Blue was laughing. They all turned towards him. They hadn’t actually heard him laugh like that except for that one time Bing fell down the stairs. 

“Karma bitches.”

“Hey what’re you guys-”

Three hands slapped over Wilford’s mouth. Oliver spoke loudly. 

“So, same map?”

“Yeah. It has the horse statue.”

_ “We’re playing prop hunt with Bob and Wade so shhhh.” _

Wilford nodded and sat down by Bing. Okay, they had even more of an audience. Great, more chances for something to go horribly wrong.

“So, Mark, you head that way I’ll head this way?”

“Yep.”

Wilford’s face lit up. He knew exactly what they were doing. 

“Hey guys?”’

“Yeah?”

“What’s up Jack?”

“I think my mic might be broken. I’m getting some glitching on my end, so just so you know.”

As soon as he said that there were some audio spikes. 

“Oh, okay. Do you guys want to stop or-”

“We’ve just gotten started! Don’t stop just because my mic’s busted.”

There were some very familiar audio spikes… 

Blue uploaded a file to their servers. It was just a picture of Anti with a question mark. 

General nods around the room. 

[Input: Odds of Anti doing the same trick we are.

Generating results…

Output: 75%]

Wilford looked slightly confused until Bing whispered it to him. Then he nodded and left the room. What, was he going to check?

There was a commotion on the other side of the mic. Oliver quickly maneuvered into position in-game and waited. 

“Ha HA! You son of a bitch!” Wilford. 

“Y̵o̴u̵ ̶f̵u̴c̸k̷e̷r̶!̴ ̵W̷h̴o̷-̶?̶”

Bing spluttered, trying to contain his laugh. 

There was a notification. 

[WARNING: Withhold spread of crucial information.] They just wanted to play prop hunt damn it.

“Oh sh*-”

Red clapped a hand over Bing’s audio transmitter and Oliver quickly got to work. “Uh- sorry guys, I’m getting a call. Maybe we should do this another time?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. It sounds like you have guests and Jack’s mic is busted so…”

He quickly closed all programs and opened a screen large enough for all of them to see through. 

“Hello!” Wilford waved.

“I̶ ̵k̸n̶e̸w̶ ̵I̷ ̸h̴e̵a̶r̸d̷ ̵m̵o̵r̷e̴ ̴o̶f̷ ̴y̷o̴u̸!̵”

“It was Bing’s idea!” Red pointed at the other android. Bing looked offended.

“Well f*ck you too!”

 

 

 

**11: Eleven Bathroom Break ins DONE**

 

“Host? You alright?”

No answer. A frown. “Host? You okay?”

He could have… have fell or had a vision or-

“Host?” He banged harder. He’d been in there for half an hour… 

Then there was a crash. He resisted the urge to kick the door down and knocked again. “Host?!”

There was a muffled ‘ow’. “The Host is fine. He simply had a vision. And promptly fell over. Please get Dr. Iplier.”

Okay  _ now _ he kicked open the door. 

It was probably justified. 

  
  


**12: Twelve Muscular Bongos DONE**

 

-SMACK!-

“OW!”

Wilford just smirked and walked away, Iplier rubbing his chest. 

“What the hell Wil?!”

“Pass it on!”

Oh for goodness sake. 

 

\---------

 

-SMACK!-

Oliver blinked. “I don’t get it.” 

Iplier shook out his hand. He’d just smacked metal after all. “It’s a thing. Just smack- or, well, in your case probably just tap really hard- someone in the chest. Tell them to pass it on.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I have no idea.”

Oliver sighed but walked away. 

 

\--------

 

-CLANG!-

Bing grinned at him. “Is this a thing now? Can I do this to someone else?”

“Yep.”

Bing grinned and ran out of the room with a whoop of joy. 

This was probably going to end badly. 

 

\----------

 

King looked at Dark and Anti, the only ones who hadn’t gotten smacked yet. 

He was regretting everything. 

Which one would be safer… Dark had a soft spot for pranks but hated physical contact, and Anti might not kill him?

“Uh, hey Anti?”

“Y̸o̷?̶”

“I’m sorry!” He ran and smacked him in the chest before running away, screaming. “BIM MADE ME DO IT IT’S A PRANK I SWEAR!”

Anti and Dark just looked at each other. 

“H̸e̸ ̴t̸h̶o̴u̶g̷h̶t̶ ̶I̷’̵d̸ ̸b̷e̷ ̴m̴a̵d̴?̸ ̶I̴ ̵m̶a̷d̷e̸ ̶t̸h̴e̶ ̷s̵t̴u̸p̵i̸d̵ ̵t̶h̵i̸n̵g̶ ̶u̶p̴.̵”

|He could have just not known that.|

Silence. Then- 

A muffled smack as Anti hit Dark in the chest, grinning. “T̴a̴g̶.̴”

Dark tapped him in the chest in return. |Tag.|

“T̴a̴g̵.”

|Tag.|

“T̴a̴g̵.”

|Tag.|

“T̴a̴g̵.”r

|Tag.|

“T̴a̴g̵.”

|Tag.|

“T̴a̴g̵.”

|Neither one of us are going to win, you realize that, right?|

Anti blinked then made a shushing motion. He turned. Host was walking up the hallway, muttering to himself. 

He wouldn’t. 

Anti reached out a hand as Host passed-

“T̴a̴g̵.”

He would. 

Host simply retorted by tossing a card at him before leaving to his own devices. 

Anti picked up the bright green card. “T̶h̴e̵ ̵f̸u̵c̶k̵?̸”

It was a reverse Uno card. 

Down the hall, Host smiled at Anti’s annoyed screech. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Sometime after this Dark disabled Bing's censoring. It was getting r e a l l y annoying. 
> 
> (Also because remembering to censor his cursing is hard and annoying and I don't think they'd be able to stand it either. Maybe it comes back when Bing really needs to charge. Like a repressed accent or something. No explanation, there no reason for it to do that, but it just sorta... does.)
> 
> Headcannons (That are cannon to this universe but are too short to do anything with):  
> \- Host had that card on him for three weeks because he saw it in a dream and wanted to be prepared.  
> \- Bim and Yan's first date is at the same place at a Date With Markiplier. They almost get kicked out because of it.  
> \- Bob and Wade knew it was at least one of the Googles this entire time. They were just having fun with it.  
> \- If Yan was turned into an animal they'd be an albino porcupine. Bim would be a caterpillar.  
> \- Bing has custom-made light-up heelys. Partially for fun and partially to piss Blue off. Dark just got a headache looking at them.  
> \- Host destroys people in Uno. Partially because he can tell exactly what everyone else has. He's forbidden from Game Night. Well, everything but Monopoly. Even he can't beat Dark in Monopoly. 
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway... I hoped you guys enjoyed and have a good one!


End file.
